


One More Secret

by rabid_plotbunny



Series: Secrets [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M, Toys, solo Asami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 21:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_plotbunny/pseuds/rabid_plotbunny
Summary: Even Asamis can bend..





	One More Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to IJ/LJ 08-08-2007

Asami Ryuichi let himself into his penthouse suite, then closed and locked the door behind him. Though the building itself was owned by him, filled with guards and the latest in security systems, his own bodyguards stationed just outside the door, it would only take a traitor seconds to reach him were he careless enough to leave the door unlocked. He made it a point _not_ to make stupid mistakes.

He left his shoes in the _genkan_ , his suit coat over the back of the couch in the parlor, followed shortly by his tie. He poured himself a generous portion of scotch at the liquor cabinet before moving over to his favorite armchair and sitting down.

That chair was one of his best-kept secrets. It wasn't much to look at; at first glance nothing more than the common dark, hard, leather-covered mate to his couch. It was only when you sat in it that it revealed its true identity as the extremely soft, sinfully comfortable thing it was.

Asami sipped his scotch, unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt with his free hand, relaxing with a gusty sigh into the embrace of the chair that was currently trying to eat him whole. He set his glass – still more than half-full – on the end table with a quiet thunk, let his head fall back and focused on easing the tension from his neck.

Birthdays, he had decided long ago, were something to be endured, not enjoyed. How could he? Every year he spent the day in question confined to his office as present after pointless, ass-kissing present was carted in; at least one from everyone he'd had dealings with in the past year. He'd come to the conclusion years past that he had dealings with _way_ too many people. Unfortunately, considering his line of work, that wasn't something he could do anything about.

And so there he was at the end of a miserably long day, his neck and shoulder muscles in knots and his one guaranteed cure for Bad Day Stress was on the other side of the country on a shoot and out of his reach. But then again, considering the way he was feeling, even if the photographer was waiting on the floor below, naked and covered in syrup, he would _still_ have been out of reach.

It was days like that that made him think – if only briefly – that perhaps his mother had been right. He should have been an art teacher like his father.

It was also nights like that as he sat in his man-eating chair, too worn to work up the ambition to move, that he couldn't help but recall the words that Takaba Akihito had said to him what seemed like an eternity ago, just after he'd offered to buy the photographer an apartment. _'I'm going to get to the top, and then I'll be the one to support_ you _!'_ (1)

This time, unlike the others, he didn't immediately brush off the possibility. Admittedly, it would be a while yet before the younger man settled enough to even _think_ about supporting him, but it was a comforting thought nonetheless. The simple concept that he might _not_ have to put up with all the pointless posing forever was like a deep breath of fresh air, painting things over in colors when his current world was reduced to nothing more than shades of grey. It was quite tempting and for once he allowed himself to ponder that future.

Well. How would it be?

First things first: There would be no more calls in odd hours that ended in him having to go in and clean up some mess that shouldn't have happened anymore, not that there were many – his men knew his temper well enough to avoid disturbing him unless there was absolutely no other choice. No more work schedule at odds with that of mostly everybody else. No more hanging onto his power with tooth and nail, guarding endlessly against whatever upstart or organization thought that his business would make an easy mark. No more wasting his birthday being fawned over and pandered to by one useless man after the other, all grasping for a bigger piece of his financial pie.

He doubted he would miss any of _that_ much at all once he got over the initial 'So now what?'.

So... Then what?

No longer required to leave the house, what would he do? An image of himself in morning robe and bunny slippers (another well-kept secret), fixing meals for Akihito and himself before... what? He couldn't see himself doing nothing all day, even in his fantasy....

As always, his thoughts turned back to Akihito. Akihito, who was now their money-maker (if one didn't count his Swiss accounts or other foreign investments). As such, would the plucky photographer gain enough self-confidence to want to be the 'man of the house' in other ways as well?

Asami frowned. On the one hand, he wasn't sure he liked the thought of anyone else having those kinds of thoughts about him. On the other hand, it was _Akihito_. Even now, he would go out of his way to do things for the younger man that he would never even _consider_ doing for anyone else. Why would _that_ be any different? He was not a weak man, was quite sure of himself and his sexual identity.

So: What would Akihito do? Asami closed his eyes and thought about it.

Well, seeing as it was Akihito, he would probably have some romantic preconceived notion that both parties had to be completely naked to have sex, no matter how many times Asami had already proved otherwise. That said, he slowly eased himself out of the man-eating chair with a small sound of regret, then took himself and his fantasies into the bedroom. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, then lay it down neatly in the hamper, followed quickly by his pants and underwear. Naked, he went to the bed, pushed aside the covers, and climbed in.

Now, Akihito would likely kiss down his neck to his chest....

He licked his fingers, then ran the damp digits lightly enough from his throat down to collarbone and down his chest to raise goosebumps. He licked his fingers again, then brought them down on a nipple, playing with the little bud as it quickly rose to a peak before repeating the actions on its twin with his other hand.

_Yes, Akihito, more...._

A hand slid down his abdomen, the muscles twitching beneath his palm as it passed. A brief stop to play with his navel then skating down, down, almost to his....

But no, turning aside almost shyly at the last moment, instead skimming the insides if his thighs and the extremely sensitive skin there. He spread his legs, heels sliding across the slick sheets with only the faintest hiss, opening himself up as if in offering to that wandering hand. He had never done so, but he knew that the hand – that his Akihito – wouldn't harm him. 

One hand rubbed at his inner thighs while the other finally left his aching nipple to slide down his belly to his cock. He palmed the twitching organ with a breathy hiss, trying to distract himself as his dominant hand moved to the bedside table and pulled a bottle of lube out of the drawer there. He heard the sharp click of the cap even over his own harsh breathing, felt the slick stuff coat his fingers.

Paused.

Was he, Asami Ryuichi, self-proclaimed Sex God and Seme Extraordinaire, really going to do this? Fantasy was one thing, but actually acting it out was something quite different. That he was alone made it marginally better than if he'd gone out to some club and offered some stranger a free ride, but even so. Was he really going to ruin his perfect 'Always Been a Seme' record? Did it even count if it was just him?

He frowned, then determinedly pushed the questions aside as his erection started to flag. He would not have his sex life affected by pointless worries. It was just him and his hands, after all. Who would tell?

His hand renewed stroking his cock, getting it back to full throbbing hardness in mere moments. His other hand returned between his legs, left a cool trail down one inner thigh as it passed, then it was in position and he pushed in the tip of one finger.

He paused, grimacing slightly in discomfort as he shifted on the bed, his legs opening more even as they bent at the knee and drew up slightly. It was decidedly odd, he decided, to feel the spasming heat around the tip of his finger at the same time as he felt it from his own rear, accompanied by a faint burning.

He gave himself a short time to adjust before sliding the finger in more, as far as he could in his awkward position. The burning persisted, but the initial stinging pain of penetration had faded slightly. After a few minutes of moving his finger in and out, he added a second.

Once again, he had to adjust his position as discomfort stabbed up through him, but as before it eased up after a few minutes.

The third finger was worse, but he persisted and eventually that pain eased slightly as well.

He frowned slightly. Yes, it might no longer be quite so uncomfortable but the fact remained that in that position he could not seem to find the spot that he knew made anal sex between men into something to be enjoyed instead of simply endured.

So now what?

Inspiration struck.

He took his hands from his body and got up out of bed. Trying to ignore the oddly slick feeling between the cheeks of his rear, he strode across the room to the closet, finding almost immediately the box he sought. He opened it, exposing its contents – the accessories he'd used that first time he'd had Takaba in his grasp. He sifted through bits and pieces of leather gear, chains, gags, and the developed photos he had taken with the younger man's own camera until he found what he was looking for.

He closed the box and returned it to its shelf, then made a quick stop in the bathroom before getting back in bed with his prize.

He re-lubed his three fingers then pushed them back inside himself, wincing in discomfort as he found out how much he had tightened up during even that small interlude. As before, it took several minutes before the spasming slowed and it became easier to thrust his digits in and out. His other hand rose to his neglected penis and pumped, effectively blurring the edges of the discomfort.

_Ah, Akihito! Yes!_

Satisfied that he had been stretched as much as his curious impatience would allow, he once again took his fingers from his body. He took up the bottle of lube, then applied a generous amount to his prize – the bump-covered vibrator.

Once the object was lubed to his satisfaction, he moved it into position, then paused.

Was he really going to do it? Violate himself with the silicone toy? It wasn't too late to stop that nonsense and finish himself off with the help of his trusty right hand....

But he had gone so far already-

A quick glimpse of an imaginary Akihito's disappointed face. _'It's okay, Asami, really. You don't have to...'_

He grit his teeth, banished the voices, and shoved the vibrator in with one hard thrust.

Small suns burst behind his eyes and his mouth opened in a soundless scream, eyes stinging with involuntary tears. So _that_ was why Akihito yelled when he entered the younger man without adequate preparation. It was a miracle that the photographer hadn't had himself fitted with a chastity belt and thrown away the key!

An eternity of fire later Asami was once again able to breathe normally, though his erection seemed to have paid the ultimate price.

He palmed his limp cock once more in a shaking hand, bringing it back to full hardness before he even dared to touch the exposed end of the vibe. He thrust it shallowly once, twice, three times, easing the object further in, hesitated, then flicked the switch.

This time, the suns went nova.

His entire body went rigid before succumbing to helpless spasms as he felt the head of the vibrator twitch around inside him even as the whole thing shook with short yet powerful vibrations, its length more than enough to ensure that his prostate got the stimulation he had wanted. He heard the vague echo of a pleasured shout he barely recognized as his own, and couldn't remember making.

Then again, the pleasure surging in waves through his body might just have accomplished the impossible and gotten all other thoughts to _be quiet_....

One thing he hadn't counted on, however, was the fact that – lube or no lube – the bumps on the shaft of the vibe would combine with the tightness of his muscles to do a very good job of holding the thing in, and that he would be writhing in pleasure too much to reach – let alone flick – the switch.

And he had just put in new batteries.

It was almost an hour and countless orgasms later (it had actually been getting quite painful by the end as he was run dry) before he managed to turn the thing off. He lay limp, exhausted, and covered in his own fluids on his bed; too worn to bother pulling the sheets over himself, let alone clean himself off.

As seme, he had taken his pleasure – and lots of it – many times before. But never had he had an experience like _that_ , where every single nerve he had was screaming out in blinding pleasure at the same time for such an extended period of time.

Akihito, he decided, could do that to him whenever he wanted once the photographer was the one supporting him. The tiny portion of his mind that was not stricken dumb from the overload of pleasure even looked forward to it.

The next morning, forced to call in sick due to overall soreness, the stabbing pain in his lower back, and his sudden inability to walk, Asami was no longer quite so sure.

**END**

**\--  
(1)** _'I'm going to get to the top, and then I'll be the one to support_ you _!'_ \- Quote taken from the last page of _Love Prize II by Yamane Ayano._


End file.
